


Between You & Me

by theworldunseen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Brienne, F/F, Femslash, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Lesbian Margaery Tyrell, Platonic Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rare Pairings, Smut, just at the end, the tiniest bit of Sansaery and Braime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 05:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20129773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworldunseen/pseuds/theworldunseen
Summary: Brienne Tarth is a 26-year-old virgin, and she'd like to change that before her next birthday. Who better to give her a helping hand — and, err, tongue — than her best friend, Margaery Tyrell?





	Between You & Me

**Author's Note:**

> ummm errrr here's this! this fandom needs more f/f and more bisexual!brienne, so i have provided. margaery and brienne are just friends who have platonic friend sex. also i've never written f/f smut before so hopefully this works!
> 
> the title of this fic is taken from a Betty Who song
> 
> ok enjoy! if this goes well maybe i will try my hand at sansaery, which i actually ship.

“Will you have sex with me?”

Brienne immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. She had wanted to be smooth. Seductive. Flirty. 

She’s never been smooth, seductive or flirty a day in her life.

Margaery Tyrell, sitting on the other end of her couch, simply raised an eyebrow. 

“What was that?”

The gleam in her eye told Brienne that she had 100 percent heard her, but wanted to hear it again. 

“I asked if you wanted to have sex with me,” she repeated, trying not to mumble. If you couldn’t tell someone you wanted to have sex with them, then you shouldn’t go and do it, she thought. 

“Why?” Margaery asked. From someone else, it might have sounded rude or mean, but Brienne could tell her friend just wanted to know. 

“As you know, I’ll be 27 in ... three weeks.” Margaery nodded. “And I’ve never...had sex. And I figured I could probably go to a bar and find someone who would help me take care of it, but I thought that if I did it with a friend it would be...nicer. And comfortable and fun?”

Margaery nodded again, but still said nothing. Brienne kept babbling. 

“And you always say that I don’t realize how hot I am, so I didn’t think you’d be completely opposed—“

“Oh I’m not,” Margaery said. “Completely opposed, I mean. I’m just thinking.”

Brienne nodded again.

“Definitely take time to think about it,” Brienne said. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it for months so I didn’t think you’d—“

“You’ve been thinking about me fucking you for months?” Margaery asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“No, I mean yes but — you make it sound so dirty.” Margaery laughed. 

“It is dirty, Brienne. That’s why it’s fun. What were you imagining?”

Brienne was really blushing now, the tips of her ears on fire. 

“I just mean,” Margaery added, sensing her friend’s unease, “that virginity is a construct, you get to decide what sex is, et cetera—“

“I know,” Brienne said. “And I don’t  _ really _ think it’s a big deal. But I also think if I just...get the first one over with, it’ll be easier to do it after. And if I do it with a friend, I know I wouldn’t regret having done it at all.”

Margaery nodded again. 

“So,” Brienne said, “I figured I’d touch you and you’d touch me and we’d figure it out from there.”

Now Margaery was giving her a full Cheshire Cat grin. 

“Brienne Tarth it would be an honor to —“

“Don’t say it —“

“— deflower you.” Brienne groaned and threw one of Margaery’s many floral pillows at her. “Do you want to do it now?”

“Now? It’s Tuesday!” Brienne squeaked. 

“Yes, people have sex on Tuesdays.” But she could tell Brienne hadn’t meant tonight. “How about Friday? I’ll make margaritas!”

Brienne took a moment to consider it, biting her lip. 

“Alright,” she said. “It’ll give me time to...get ready. Oh God, what should I wear?” Margaery laughed, not unkindly. 

“Whatever you want. Wear sexy undies or don’t, shave your legs or don’t. You’re hot every single way.” She grasped Brienne’s arm and squeezed it. “We’ll just have fun.”

——

We’ll just have fun. That was Brienne’s mantra through the end of the week every time she thought about chickening out. The whole point of having sex with Margaery was to  _ not _ be nervous, but it was increasingly hard to not get worked up about it. 

Friday after work, she took a long bath and carefully shaved most of her body. She used the body lotion Margaery had bought her last year for her birthday that she always felt was too fancy to use in real life. 

When she was done, she put on a Calvin Klein underwear and bra set that she’d bought the day before when she realized none of her stuff was even remotely cute. She looked in the mirror, hoping she looked like an Instagram model but knowing she didn’t (and knowing, really, that those models didn’t look like that either). 

She slipped on her favorite pair of jeans and her favorite sweater, then tried to run some product through her hair to make it look tousled. It didn’t come out quite right, but she didn’t want to look like she tried too hard, and she really didn’t want to be late. 

When Margaery opened her door half an hour later, Brienne could tell her friend was also a little nervous, which made Brienne feel better. 

“This is so goofy,” she said, as Margaery handed her a strawberry margarita. A giggle escaped from her lips. 

“I know,” Margaret agreed, grinning. She took a big swing from her margarita glass. “I don’t mind it, though.”

They sat on the couch with their glasses, smiling as they drank. 

“Should we set ground rules?” Brienne asked. “Like no kissing or something?”

Margaery laughed. She had also gone with a casual look, jeans and a tee shirt. But knowing Margaery, they were very expensive jeans and a very expensive tee shirt. 

“No kissing? Brienne, I know you’ve never done this before, but it’s no good without kissing.” She slid closer to Brienne on the couch. “And truthfully, I’ve always thought your lips looked very...kissable.” She giggled at that, too, but still raised her thumb to Brienne’s lips. Brienne felt herself start to blush, but didn’t look away. 

“They’re always chapped,” Brienne said, before she could stop herself. But it felt so nice to have Margaery touch her. She almost shivered. 

“I’ll get you lip balm for Christmas,” Margaery whispered, placing her empty glass on the coffee table. She slipped Brienne’s from her hand and set it next to hers, never breaking eye contact. 

“Are you OK?” she asked, soft and sweet and comforting. Brienne nodded. She really was. She wanted this — she wanted Margaery. She wanted to do with this Margaery. 

So she had to do it. 

She put her hand on Margaery’s cheek, leaned in and kissed her. She felt her friend smile against her mouth as they kissed, her lips smooth and soft and hot. 

They pulled back after a minute, just their foreheads touching. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Brienne whispered, holding back a laugh.

“I know,” Margaery whispered back, before kissing her again, hot and open and needy. Brienne put her hands on Margaery’s waist and pulled her on to her lap, her thighs straddling Brienne’s waist. 

“I like it when you take charge,” Margaery said, her voice heavy and low. She kissed the tip of Brienne’s nose, her cheek, her jaw. She moved down to her neck and Brienne shuddered beneath her. 

“You’re very good at this,” Brienne said, pulling Margaery closer. 

“I’m an expert deflower-er,” she said, running her hands under Brienne’s sweater. “Can I take this off?”

Brienne didn’t answer — she took it off herself. Margaery was pleasantly surprised, ogling the freckles along her friend’s collarbone. She licked her there. 

“Brienne Tarth, did you put on this bougie bra just for me?” she asked, rubbing her finger under the strap. 

“Did you put one on for me?” Brienne asked, running her hand up Margaery’s back. Then she realized what wasn’t there. 

“I didn’t wear one at all,” she whispered into Brienne’s ear. “Take my shirt off.”

Brienne didn’t have to be told twice. 

She took Margaery’s breasts in her hands, running her thumbs over her nipples. She felt her friend squirm in her lap. 

“Is that good?” she asked, worried. Margaery nodded. 

“Really good,” she said, something desperate in her voice that made Brienne feel powerful. She leaned in and kissed her again, wanted to laugh at the girl who, less than an hour ago, had suggested they didn’t kiss at all. Sex was mostly kissing, apparently. 

She kissed Margaery’s neck, her collarbone. 

“Can I?” she asked, as her mouth traveled down. 

“Please,” Margaery begged, and Brienne licked the swell of her breast. Her thumb traced one nipple as her lips nibbled the other. Margaery moaned. 

“Someone...learned quickly,” she said, grinding into Brienne’s lap. “Can I take your bra off?” 

She pulled away and nodded. Margaery slipped her hands under the elastic and helped Brienne out of it. Now they were both topless, staring at each other. 

“God, Brienne,” Margaery said, reaching out and holding her friend’s breasts in her hands. “You’re so hot.”

Brienne laughed, but stopped when Margaery rubbed her nipples, a moan escaping her lips.

“Not a joke,” Margaery said before kissing Brienne again. Brienne pulled Margaery closer, letting their breasts rub against each other as her tongue explored Margaery’s mouth. Brienne felt like the smartest girl in the world: why didn’t everyone have sex for the first time with their hot friends? Everyone should do this!

Then Margaery was licking her breasts and Brienne couldn’t stop giggling. It felt so good and she almost couldn’t believe any of it was happening. 

“Alright,” Margaery said, looking up at her. “We can make out topless on my couch all night. But if we want to do more, we should probably head the bedroom.”

Brienne gulped. “Yes,” she said. Margaery climbed off her lap and took her hand, and they practically ran to the bedroom. 

Margaery took off her jeans as soon as she closed the door and Brienne followed her lead. 

“Should I put on music? I should put on music. What should I put on?” Margaery fumbled in her discarded jeans for her phone.

“You’re supposed to be sexpert,” Brienne said, taking off her underwear as Margaery turned on her speakers and put on Rihanna. She didn’t realize how wet she was until she started undressing. She was laughing again by the time Margaery turned back around.

“Look who isn’t shy anymore,” Margaery said as she sauntered back over, her eyes running up and down Brienne’s body. Some distant part of her told her to be self conscious, but it was  _ Margaery. _ Her friend. She was safe.

“Get on the bed, Tarth,” she said as she divested herself of her thong. Brienne obeyed, lying back against the pillows. Margaery straddled her lap again and kissed her cheek.

“Are we still having fun?” she asked, running her fingers over Brienne’s hips. She nodded. “Great.” 

She kissed her neck again, her shoulders, her chest. 

“That feels so good,” Brienne said when Margaery’s lips and hands found her nipples again.

“Good,” her friend purred, letting her hands and lips trail further down, kissing Brienne’s stomach, trailing over her belly button. “Is this OK?” Brienne nodded as she let her hands run through Margaery’s ponytail.

Her lips came back to Brienne’s. 

“Can I touch you down there, now?” she asked. 

“Yes,” Brienne said. “Please.” Margaery smirked as her hands trailed down below, teasing Brienne before her fingers finally entered her.

“Oh my god,” Brienne said with a gasp. “Holy shit.”

“That good?” Margaery said with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

Brienne couldn’t coherently think about how good it felt, let alone say it aloud. She felt like she was falling apart, putty in her friend’s hands.

“Open your legs, Brie,” Margaery said, and she obliged. “I want to taste you.”

All Brienne could do was nod as Margaery left a trail of kisses down her body until she reached her hot, aching core. In one swift motion, she threw Brienne’s legs over her shoulders and dove in.

“Oh my God, Margaery… holy shit, holy shit.” She quickly lost the ability to use her words, and it seemed that Margaery was giggling as she licked and sucked and teased. Brienne felt, distantly, that she should maybe be embarrassed by the way she was grinding her crotch against Margaery’s mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her friend was apparently some kind of sex god, and she’d never known.

Margaery looked up at her with her big brown eyes, something devious in their spark.

“You taste so good, Brie,” she said, licking her lips. She was so close to coming, right on the edge.

“Margaery...please,” she begged. Her friend obliged, using her tongue and her fingers to tear Brienne apart once, twice, three times. 

“I think you might have ruined me for everyone else,” Brienne said, when her friend climbed back up. She squeezed Margaery’s breasts again — they fit so perfectly in her hands. 

“I’ve always said I’m one of a kind,” she said, pecking Brienne on the lips so she could taste herself. “A very successful deflowering, if I say so myself.”

“But I didn’t do you,” Brienne said. Margaery shook her head. 

“Tonight’s about you.”

“But I want to,” Brienne said, firm. “Otherwise I’m just using you. Unless you don’t want me to…”

Margaery looked at Brienne’s lush lips. 

“I want you to,” she admitted. Brienne smiled. 

“Show me what you want.”

So she did. It took Brienne a little bit to figure out where Margaery liked to be touched, but it wasn’t all that different from touching herself.

And once she got brave enough to use her mouth, she knew what Margaery meant about tasting good, even if she couldn’t think of what words she would use to describe it, all salty and sweet and wet. And she felt so powerful, making Margaery come above her. 

“Yes Brienne, right there, oh god, Brienne, fuck,” she screamed, her thighs wrapping around Brienne’s head. 

When they were tired out, they laid side by side in bed. 

“Alright,” Margaery said. “Now you’re deflowered.” Brienne hit her with a pillow.

“Stop using that word,” Brienne said with a laugh. But she felt happy. 

When she got up in the middle of the night to pee, she stared at herself in the mirror. She hadn’t really thought she’d looked different, but she still feel a little surprised that she  _ didn’t _ look different. She was still Brienne, with long legs and thick thighs and tiny tits and too many freckles. But she was also, according to Margaery, Brienne who was quickly learning to be very good with her mouth.

In the morning, Margaery ordered them breakfast sandwiches and iced coffees on Seamless. They sat on the couch under a blanket and ate them while they watched  _ Schitt’s Creek _ (Margaery felt a deep affinity with Alexis).

“We could do this again sometime if you want,” she told Brienne in between episodes. Brienne shrugged. She hadn’t thought about if they would do it more than once, but she wasn’t opposed. The next day, she sent Margaery thank you flowers for “an unforgettable evening.” Margaery framed the card.

But they never got the chance to try it again. Two weeks later, Margaery’s brother Loras brought his new friend, Sansa Stark, to brunch, and it was basically love at first sight. Two months after that, Brienne met Jaime Lannister in the kitchen at work. It was the opposite of love at first sight, but it’s a story for another time. 


End file.
